


Darkness

by beng



Series: 30 Days of Martin Lavellan [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Redemption, Remorse, Revelations, Revisiting painful memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beng/pseuds/beng
Summary: If Martin could give nine nights to the man who slaughtered his clan, he surely owes one night to a man whose shield on a battlefield has saved him more times than he can count.
Relationships: Blackwall & Male Lavellan
Series: 30 Days of Martin Lavellan [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080431





	Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the [30 Days OC challenge](https://luinquesse.tumblr.com/post/187518711282/30-days-oc-challenge) by luinquesse.  
> References Part 7 "Symbols" of this series.

Martin is not in a rush as he goes down the poorly illuminated steps of the jail in the Summer Bazaar.

To be honest, he had hesitated to go after Blackwall in the first place: he respected the warrior and relied on him in battle, but they hadn’t been particularly close. In fact, having that drink at Cabot’s was the first and only step Martin had managed to make to get to know him better before the man disappeared.

At first, Martin hadn’t even understood why he should be concerned about Blackwall’s leaving. Joining the Inquisition was voluntary. If anyone decided to leave, for whatever reasons, Martin could accept that. Thank the Creators for Leliana, who explained this whole mess to him.

And now there’s this darkness, and a slaughter of innocents, and a murderer waiting for him at the end of the hall.

His palms are sweaty. The heaviness of a different time and place have settled in his lungs. A memory of a different massacre rises to the forefront of his mind, and he needs to take a steadying breath when he finally arrives to Black… to Rainier’s cell. He thinks of a different murderer he once bound to an ash tree for nine days and nights until he buried his clan.

But Rainier is no abomination. And Martin is not seventeen anymore. He must be able to get to the bottom of this. He needs to know, even when he can barely find his voice.

“Was the bailiff telling the truth? Did you really do those things?”

The prisoner hangs his head.

“Yes, I did. It’s all true. It’s time we all took a good look at who I really am.” His voice is dripping with self-loathing and regret. “Why are you here?”

“That depends on what you say.”

“Don’t you understand? I gave the order to kill Lord Callier, his entourage, and I lied to my men about what they were doing! When it came to light, I ran. Those men, my men, paid for my treason while I was pretending to be a better man! _This_ is what I am! A murderer, a traitor… a monster.”

Martin stumbles a step back, the anger and the remorse hitting him like a fist in the chest. He needs a moment, his hands shaking as he runs them through his hair. He knows of another who called himself a monster. He swallows thickly.

It sounds like Rainier has been hanging on his own ash-tree for years. What more can any court of justice do? What would his death accomplish?

“Would a monster have given himself up?” he notes carefully, unsure of what else to say. “Somewhere along the line you stopped pretending.”

The prisoner says nothing, and as the quiet crackling of the torches fills the silence, Martin wonders about the fate of his other monster. Did he regret as strongly as Rainier? Did he make something of his life, or did he go and murder more people? Was he strong enough to resist possession again?

The bailiff’s words come to mind, that Rainier will hang for the murder of a noble and his family.

And Martin wonders, did his other monster ever confess? And if he did, was there _one_ judge in Thedas who would have condemned him for the massacre of some clan of knife-ears and not for the fact that he’d been an apostate?

Martin slowly sits down by the wall near the bars to the prisoner’s cell, rests his head against the cool stone. He doesn’t know what he will do yet. He’ll need to talk with his advisors.

But if he could give nine nights to the man who slaughtered his clan, he surely owes one night to a man whose shield on a battlefield has saved him more times than he can count.

A torch flickers and goes out. The skylights in the vaulted ceiling have darkened with the gathering dusk, casting the prison in darkness.

Martin clasps his cold hands around a knee and takes a deep breath.

“The man at the gallows, Mornay. Who was he?”


End file.
